Page 7 of Only You and Me

Annie chuckles in response. She’s only lived in Elladine a little under a year, but she’s already part of our friend group and is a member of the steamy book club Emily, Shayna, and I are in. So, she knows how much this kind of night out is not my cup of tea.

“Don’t mind her. She’s up past her bedtime,” Fitz teases.

I roll my eyes at him and take another sip of my wine, grateful that the three of them keep the conversation up between them and I can just sit and people watch. Which is good and bad. Good, because it passes the time, but bad because I can’t keep myself from intermittently searching out Ben in the bar. And every time I do, he’s looking cozy with the woman he’s been hanging with all evening. I hate the discomfort in the pit of my stomach whenever I see it.

Why do I let this bother me? It’s been so long since we were together for those few months and it’s not like I haven’t seen him with someone else.

When it’s about eleven-forty-five, Annie and Jack head back out to the dance floor, looking at each other with love in their eyes.

I lean over to Fitz. “Hey, I think I’m gonna head out. I’m tired. Do you mind?”

Before he can answer, Emily walks up to our table.

“Hey, you two. What are you up to?” Emily asks.

“Your lame-ass sister here was telling me she’s gonna duck out now and go home,” Fitz says.

“Really, Trina? You okay?” I hate the concern that crosses my sister’s pretty face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You two worry too much. I’m just tired.”

I stand up and hug Emily. Seeing Ben in my line of vision over her shoulder, his date whispering in his ear, I’m surer than ever… it’s time for me to leave.

* * *

BEN

All I wanted out of tonight was to chill out and hang out with my friends and my siblings—fortunately for me, there’s some overlap there, so I don’t have to choose between the two. But when Trina walked into O’Riley’s bar tonight a half hour after I arrived, her presence disrupted any chance of me relaxing.

I’m surprised to see her here at all. We only dated for a few months all those years ago, but I know her. I’ve studied her over the years, starting all the way back to my freshman year of high school. I chalk it up to the detective in me. That’s how I know this isn’t her scene. She’d probably rather be home reading. But she’s here, in a crowded bar, in an environment she can’t control. And I suspect it makes her uneasy.

So, when I saw her on the dance floor with Shayna and Emily, along with a few cops from Meadow Creek, I could read the discomfort in her tense shoulders. I saw the way the smile on her face—the one she’s only ever given to Emily—faded away when the men approached them. Everything in me knows Trina was about to walk away from them and leave the dance floor. But she didn’t do it fast enough for my liking and I couldn’t stop myself from getting involved.

I told myself it was because Jones was talking to Shayna and he’s a misogynistic jerk who I don’t want anywhere near my sister. But Shayna’s an excellent judge of character, tough as hell, and just as smart. She might hang with someone like Jones and his friends for a few hours, but there’s almost no chance anything more would come of it.

The real reason I stuck my nose in it was that I couldn’t stand seeing Trina with them. I saw the way Jones and his friends were checking her out before they got up and talked to the women. Emily and Shayna weren’t immune to the men’s ogling either—all three women are beautiful—but Trina clearly had the attention of the two men with Jones. It’s been like that since I’ve known her. She’s a natural beauty with long, wavy blonde hair, legs that go on for miles, and a beautiful face. A face not hidden behind makeup, except for occasional lip gloss. But it’s her eyes—those striking blue, almost turquoise-colored eyes—that have always been my kryptonite. From the moment I met her at the end of soccer practice over fifteen years ago, they’ve held me under their spell any time I’ve looked in them.

Trina’s eyes say more than her mouth ever has. They speak of sadness, worry, insecurity, love, protectiveness, resilience… Trina has always been the most gorgeous woman in every room without even trying and she lacks awareness of it. Tonight is no exception.

So, when I was acting like a caveman and rescuing my sister, Trina, and Emily from a situation any of them could have handled on their own had they wanted to, and Trina reached across me and pulled one man to her, wrapping her arms intimately around his neck, I was fuming. I like to think that I’m a good guy, but I’m aware my major weakness is my ego—as in that arrogant bastard that lives inside of me and screams for attention whenever he feels slighted.

That’s how I ended up here, with an attractive brunette who’s been hanging on me for the last few hours, feeding my ego. Trina may not want me, but this woman seems to. So, who cares about the fact that no smile graces Trina’s face and her eyes are dull whenever she glances at me—which she seems to do a lot—throughout the evening? Who cares that she seems to stare off when Annie and Jack join her and Fitz at the table, minimally engaged in the conversation?

Damnit, I care. I do and I’m a self-centered dick for flaunting the attentions of the woman I’m dancing with in front of Trina, fueling the rumor that I’m a playboy and not one to settle down. So, when I see her walking out the door of the bar at quarter to midnight—because I’m watching her, too, like I always do—I excuse myself from the stunned woman I’ve been trying to distract myself with and I weave through the crowd to get to the exit.

When I step outside, the biting cold air momentarily takes my breath away. I dart my eyes around, looking for Trina, though she has a few minutes head start on me. I see her about a half block down, typing into her phone, and I run—not walk, not jog—to where she’s standing.

“Trina.” I breathe out, slightly heavy.

Her widening eyes fly up to meet mine. “What’s wrong? Is Emily okay?” There’s a note of panic in her voice and I regret not taking more care in my approach so as not to frighten her.

“Yeah, sorry. Emily’s fine.”

Trina’s eyebrows move closer together, and she wears a blank expression of confusion.

“Why are you out here?”

I don’t miss that her voice sounds fatigued, and she rubs her hand over her forehead like she used to do when she’d get one of those horrible migraines.

---